Acta non Verba
by Awickedstarkid
Summary: Swan Queen fanfic. Title is Latin for "Actions, not Words". Emma delves deeper into her past through therapy with Archie, though, unbeknownst to her, Regina is learning more about her as well. Her secret obsession with reading Emma's secrets is bound to get her into trouble, and just might get her heart broken.
1. Chapter 1

Ab Initio

_All you need to do is write, _she told herself, _Just write and it will all come out. Everything will be okay._

…

_ The first thing she remembered was her new home, probably. It was cramped and moldy and the porch had white paint chipping off in clumps, but she loved it nevertheless. _

_Sometimes she'd like to hide in the boxes that came to their doorstep. She hardly cared about the toys inside; it was just fun to make her own little world inside the cardboard where no one could see her. After awhile she'd get bored and pop up like a jack-in-the-box to see if anyone was watching her. When they laughed, she laughed, too. She loved to get a reaction out of them. Quite the little drama queen, she was._

_On cold nights she could smell the aroma of the wool blanket wrapped around her mother and her while they read stories. The yellow light gave the small room a cozy feel in the middle of winter. Her mother's belly was getting bigger. She would pat it and curl into it again. Then she would yawn and pull the blanket tighter and her eyes would flutter as the pictures of her storybook slowly faded into black. She wouldn't wonder where her father was. She didn't really care. He'd be home soon, anyway._

_A couple of days later, her mother started wailing and her father panicked and drove her away, leaving her alone. That was okay. The neighbor next door came over soon enough and she had company and dinner for a few more days._

_Her parents came home soon after that with a car seat and some blankets. She peaked inside them. Maybe they had gotten her a toy. The little doll she thought she saw blinked at her and made a hiccoughing noise. She stumbled back and her mother laughed._

_A few days after that, her daddy left again. _

_But the next day, he came home. However, another person was with him. She had short blond hair and a friendly smile that made the little girl opposite her immediately relax and welcome her into their home with the invitation of a beat-up Barbie and a toy car. The woman smiled again and said something to her father that she didn't really understand. The next moment, she felt a gentle hand leading her up the steps and into her room._

_She heard crying downstairs and wondered which of her parents had gotten hurt. It sounded high-pitched - much too high to be coming from either her mother or her father. Could the doll be making that dreadful noise? Now confused, she sank down onto her tiny blue bed and tried to listen to what the amiable lady was telling her._

_It came in muddled bursts, the point of the conversation forgotten altogether, but the tone not quite missed. She'd heard that pitying voice before. Whenever her mother couldn't buy something for her at the store or her father couldn't take her with him on his trips, she'd heard it. She knew what to expect, and yet, she wasn't expecting it when the woman took her hand once again and pulled her back down the steps, a navy duffle bag thumping along behind them._

_All of the sudden, her mother pulled her into a hug with tears in her eyes and she felt the vibrations of her father's deep voice whispering sweet words into her hair. The atmosphere changed and she was not pleased. Tears filled her eyes and she started wailing like any three-year-old would when thrust into a complicated situation that they didn't understand. She took notice of two miniature fists waving in the air as she was heaved out of her home and into a car she didn't recognize. _

_Her parents waved and-_

…

"Uh-huh…" Archie said as he leaned back into his leather chair. "I see. So, you like to write about," he gestured to the crumpled lined paper he was holding in his hand, "…this…in the third person?"

Emma slowly pushed herself up into a sitting position and ran a hand through her hair. "Yeah. I don't really like talking about it…I kind of like to…" she trailed off.

"Distance yourself from it," Archie finished, nodding. "Yeah, I-I get it." An uncomfortable silence passed and Emma shifted on the couch.

Archie coughed. "So…what made you decide to come to me? After all this time. I thought…" he laughed lightly, "I thought after everything that had happened you…put it behind you."

Emma shifted forward again. "Yeah. I thought so, too. But…I guess this" she gestured articulately with her hands, "…suppressing my emotions…will always come back to haunt me." She tried to laugh to hide her discomfort. She was never really good at talking about her feelings. She always thought that journaling and slumber parties were weak and time consuming things middle school girls did to vent about why Johnny-what's-his-name didn't look at her that day. Her thoughts might have changed over the past year or so.

Archie smiled and leaned forward to put a comforting hand on Emma's knee. "Well, I'm glad you came to me. I think journaling and cognitive therapy will really help you in the long run. It might not be able to fix all of your problems…but…I can try." He squeezed her knee and leaned back to collect his papers, almost missing the slight, broken smile Emma gave to him.

He cleared his throat again. "Well, Emma, it appears our time here is up, but I'll be happy to make you another appointment for whenever you'd like." He set his planner on the desk and moved to get a pen.

Emma blinked in surprise. "Yeah! Okay, um…how about Thursday at 4?" She scratched the back of her head and knotted her eyebrows in unease.

Archie swiveled around and smiled. "Sounds good. I'll just write that down…"

He set his pen down on his planner and got out of his seat, extending a hand to help Emma up from the couch. "I'll walk you out. I'm going to get a quick bite at Granny's before my next session, anyway."

"Okay," was Emma's only response.

They stomped down the steep steps in comfortable silence. Emma welcomed the fresh air as the door opened. She closed her eyes and tried to forget everything that being in therapy made her feel. As she exhaled, she felt a body slam into her's.

"Would you please watch where you're going, Miss Swan. Some people have better things to do than mull about on the sidewalk with their eyes closed."

Emma scoffed. "Well, sor-ry." She made to move past Regina but a notion that just crossed her mind stopped her. She spun to face Regina. "Wait, is Henry still in therapy? I thought everything about the curse was cleared up."

The Mayor stiffened. "I don't really see how any of this is your business, Sheriff."

"Like it or not, Regina, I gave birth to the kid. He's still my son and I want to know how he's doing. Answer me this: Is Henry still in therapy."

Regina narrowed her eyes at the woman standing opposite of her and sighed, turning away. "No."

Emma stood there, taken by surprise. "Then why are you-"

"I suggest you be on your way, Miss Swan. There's still a town to 'protect'."

And with that, Regina shrugged past the leather-clad Sheriff and entered the musty building.

…

She had seen Archie walk past, but she didn't bother to ask whether she was allowed to go straight in to his office. She'd done so before, so why should this time be any different?

Regina pushed open the unlocked, hard oak door and went about setting her things beside her on the couch, the pesky blonde still on her mind. What was she thinking, anyway, standing outside Archie's building doing nothing? Did she know that Regina was in therapy? She sighed. No, of course not. The Sheriff seemed moderately taken-aback when she answered that it was not Henry who had the appointment. But the question still remained. Why was Emma Swan loitering outside of Archie's office?

Suddenly, out of the corner of her eye, a crinkled piece of notebook paper caught her attention. Should she? No. Her eyes flicked over to the fluttering paper and she glanced at the Latin inscription written at the top. Well, now she was definitely hooked. Checking behind her for any sign of the timid therapist, she reached out and grabbed the paper and began to read.

She stopped halfway through; the realization of what she had just read slamming her in the face like an oncoming train.

This was Emma Swan's life story.

She really shouldn't be doing this. This was an infringement on her rights.

And yet, the temptation of learning about her adversary, made her pick the paper up and start reading again.

Knowledge is power, and, well, one could never have enough of that.

*_**Author's note: This is set after the curse was broken, but a few things have been switched around. None of the events in Season Two have taken place, and Regina still has Henry, so it's kind of like a whole new beginning. I hoped you enjoyed this chapter. Please review! :) **_


	2. Chapter 2

Emma changed her position on the couch for the fifth time in a row. It was really uncomfortable. The couch and the atmosphere. Both. She cleared her throat to let Archie know that she was ready to start the session.

Archie turned from his desk to face her. "Oh, Emma. I didn't hear you come in. Sorry, I was working on my files for another client…Are you ready to start?"

She pursed her lips and shifted again, looking around the room for something. "Um…yeah. Do you have a pen and paper I could use?"

Archie set his hands on his knees and started awkwardly, "Yeah, about that…I was wondering if you would like to..talk about everything here and maybe write everything else down at home…?" He could already see that his suggestion wasn't going to be considered.

"No, no, I'd rather write here. I guess some part of me needs to be in the right mindset and…well, I don't really want to taint my…um, Mary Margaret's and my apartment with…unpleasant memories."

Archie nodded and smiled. "Totally understandable." He turned toward his desk again and shuffled some papers around until he found his notepad. He tore a piece off and handed it to her with his pen. "Here…write away."

The next 48 minutes were filled with the satisfying scratches of Emma's pen.

…

_She stayed at home most of the time. It didn't really seem like anyone could trouble themselves to be around her. The seclusion from society or social situations and the shock of it all shut the poor five-year-old up. She'd learned not to ask for things, even necessary things like dinner or a new pair of shoes. Her new 'parents' were always too busy with work or that auburn liquid in the hard, transparent bottles she always seemed to find lying around. She didn't really have any friends._

_After a month or two, her 'dad' (he said she should call him 'pa', but she didn't want to call him anything) shoved her on a big, yellow bus and she didn't see either of them for half a day. She enjoyed her time at the place she heard adults refer to as 'school' or 'kindergarten'. She loved all the attention she got, and hungered for it, knowing that when she got back to her house, she would be deprived of any form of communication other than neanderthal grunts and hand signals. _

_Her teacher called her 'sweet' and 'vociferous' and spent more time with her than with the other students. She learned her ABC's and started reading strange runes they called 'letters' and 'numbers'. _

_She thought she played with the other kids nicely, only giving to them when they had something to give in return, confronting them when they tried to take what was hers. Her teacher didn't like that, though, and called her parents in to talk about her suspected 'anger issues' and how life was at home. _

_After that the blonde lady came back with the blue duffle in tow. This time Emma didn't scream or cry, she just entered the car deadpan, like the woman wanted her to. She told Emma that her name was Carol Emerick, but she could call her Ms. E. Emma called her Carol, instead. She asked if Emma knew where they were going and Emma replied, "To a new home." Very good, she toothily smiled in response. _

_They spent the rest of the car ride talking about her favorite stories and shows, mindlessly entertaining her before sending her to a new perdition. By the time they got there, Emma didn't want to get out._

…

"Okay," Archie replied when she handed him the paper. "Now we're getting into the foster care days." He coughed and Emma shuffled her feet and crossed her legs. "Now, why do you think this family made you so distressed?"

Emma knotted her eyebrows and frowned. "I don't really want to talk about-"

"About what? Emma, you're here for therapy, and…." Archie looked at her pleadingly. "I can't help you if you won't talk to me."

Emma sighed in defeat. "Okay. Fine…I guess…" she growled, "I don't know!" She could feel herself getting frustrated now. She spent all that time writing and it was all for naught. She still had to talk. Maybe she was just angry at herself. "….I guess it was the sharp contrast between my old life and this new one…I don't know…Maybe the whole family made me uneasy."

Archie nodded, concern glinting in his eyes. "Yeah. I can see why." He cleared his throat and continued in his hesitant voice, "Thank you…Emma, for talking about this with me. I truly feel that this will help you open up and let go. This is a very brave thing you're doing."

That was the straw that broke the camel's back. "You know, I think I'm gonna cut this session short. Thanks for that." She started collecting her jacket and cell phone off the coffee table between them, trying furiously to ignore the shocked and wounded expression Archie was sending her way. She could still feel it boring in to the back of her neck as she raised herself up and accidently slammed her check onto his desk. She groaned under her breath. This was not how this was supposed to go. She would not…_could not _be called brave. She just didn't fit her own definition.

She cleared her throat at the door. Without turning around, she mumbled, barely above a whisper, "Sorry. Thank you," and left.

…

Regina strut down the pavement like it was a catwalk when she saw a disgruntled Emma exiting the ratty building followed by a very confused Archie Hopper. Her heels clicked against the pavement and she smiled. This was working out nicely for her.

It wasn't like she _planned _to get to her appointment early only to find a different puzzle piece of Emma Swan's life waiting oh-so-temptingly on the coffee table that just so happened to be in front of where she normally sat down. Only a psychopath would plan that. And she was decidedly not a psychopath. Well, in her own mind, at least.

She set her coat and purse next to her and picked up the crisp piece of paper with a sadistic smile twisting on her lips. The more information she could find, the better prepared she could be when the Sheriff eventually challenged her power. At least that's why she told herself she was doing this.

In all honesty, the idea of learning about the birth mother of her son intrigued her. After her last run-in with the unruly blonde, she found herself wanting to know what lay behind those tacky leather jacket and wife-beater jeans.

So she read some more, and her knowledge increased by the line. And she thought to herself:_ This is going to be good._

She flipped the paper over and was just about to finish deciphering the sloppy handwriting when she heard footsteps stomping closer.

She hurriedly placed the paper back on the table and tried to look nonplussed as the door flung open.

The person on the other side was not whom she was expecting. Emma Swan sputtered in surprise. "Oh! Regina. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to..." she shook her head like her mind was an etch-a-sketch and she wanted to erase the scene she just saw. "I mean…I was just going to tell Archie-" she stopped talking.

"That's quite alright, Miss Swan. Just make sure it doesn't happen again."

Emma nodded and softly closed the door on her way out. Both women breathed a sigh of relief when the other was gone, but for completely different reasons.

…

Emma shook her head again as she exited the building for the second time in an hour. Her blonde hair caught the sunlight as it waved from side to side in tandem with her bewildered head. _That was strange, _she thought to herself, _I expected Regina to lash out at me for discovering she was in counseling. Or at least stoically shoo me away. Instead she just told me not to do it again. She was even _polite _about it. Maybe she is changing…_

Emma snorted at the notion. "Well," she muttered to herself, "we'll just have to wait and see."

*_**Author's note: Wow! Holy crap, you guys! I've never had such a positive feedback for just one chapter before! Thank you so much. I hope you liked this chapter and there's sure to be more to come. Please review! **_


	3. Chapter 3

_**Trigger warning: Bullying and panic attacks. If you have/had experienced either of these, please skip the latter part of the chapter. I do not want this to cause any attacks or bring up any unwanted memories. Thank you.**_

She fixed herself breakfast at the island in her kitchen, the soft glow of the late morning light dancing off the ceramic cereal bowl. Mary Margaret had already left for school, so the apartment was alarmingly empty. Emma couldn't blame her for not leaving a note, though. It _was _11 o'clock. She didn't like being up this late, but, unfortunately, her job made it hard for her to get a good night's sleep. That and the fact that about a million thoughts were screaming for her attention when she lay down to sleep last night.

And they all had to do with one woman. _Her. _Emma realized later in the day that she might have underestimated the consequences of Regina being in therapy. At first, she thought it was necessary, that it might even _help _Regina to let go of her former ways. But as she pondered the thought, one key aspect kept popping up. _What would this mean for Henry? _

What was Regina even in therapy for? Did she relapse and revert back to her sociopathic predisposition? If Henry's wellbeing was in danger, she had to take it upon herself to get him to safety.

She had made up her mind. She slipped on her hardened boots and favorite jacket and pushed open the door to her apartment, grabbing the keys and her badge from the bowl on the way out.

…

Emma had no reason to suspect that she was being nosy. Henry's life was of the utmost importance. Plus, it was her job as Sheriff to investigate any instance that might put the citizens of her town in danger. She comforted herself with these thoughts as she confidently marched up the steps to the town hall.

She strode past a startled secretary and didn't even bother to knock as she pushed her way into Regina's office. The Mayor raised her gaze, obviously displeased with the interruption.

"Sheriff," she greeted, "May I ask what possessed you to barge into my office without any prior notice this morning?"

Emma narrowed her eyes and sauntered up to the imperial desk. "Here's the thing, Regina. We have a problem."

The Mayor hardly even blinked as she stated, "We have many problems, Miss Swan. Whatever one could you be referring to? You'll have to be more specific."

"I saw you in Archie's office the other day and you looked like you were ready for a session."

Regina lowered her voice to a growl. "I trust you didn't spread that around, dear, seeing as I also saw you coming out of therapy. Need I remind you, I have as much, if not more, power over the things that are whispered in this town."

Emma rolled her eyes. "I'm not in middle school, _your majesty. _I didn't tell anyone anything about that."

"Then why are you here, Miss Swan?" Regina narrowed her eyes at the blonde, trying to decipher what lay beneath that cocky expression.

"I'm here for Henry."

"Miss Swan, I do not have time for your maternal ruminations, I have a town to-"

"No, Regina," she cut her off, "I don't want to take him, though I will if that's what it comes to." She laid her hands on the desk and entered the now slightly intimidated Mayor's personal space. "I want to know if Henry is safe with you."

She scoffed. "Of course he's safe. He has a home, an excellent education, and a mother that loves and cares for him. That's more than you could ever-" She stopped herself.

"Yeah, he has a home, and yeah he has an education, but I'm not so sure about the mother part."

The look Regina gave her then pierced like a dagger. Lucky the white knight had her shield.

"I'm afraid the reason you're back in therapy is because you relapsed. I'm afraid that you went back to the evil queen and Henry's life is in danger. I'm _scared _for him, Regina." Her eyes were pleading.

The cold politician's mask was back. "I can assure you that Henry is safe with me. And, no, I did not relapse. I entered therapy for other reasons." She could see the question forming on Emma's lips. She killed it with a single sentence. "Personal reasons."

Emma exhaled and nodded, backing away towards the door. "Alright, Regina, that's all I came for. I'm just trying to keep Henry safe. I'll let you get back to your work."

Regina watched her exit with a chilling gaze. "Good day to you, Sheriff."

Something clicked in her mind as the Sheriff walked out. That was it. She wouldn't read any more of the ignorant blonde's 'tragic' back-story. She wasn't worth her time.

…

But as she sat down in her usual spot on the lumpy couch, she couldn't resist the temptation of picking up the smooth white paper and taking in all she could of the omnipotent scrawled script.

She didn't know why she was so obsessed with this. It wasn't plausible- her being interested in Emma Swan's life, especially after all she had put her through. And yet, she felt a pull, some sort of magnetic force that attracted her to this woman's life story.

She pulled the paper onto her lap and sighed in resignation.

…

"_Loser."_

"_Freak."_

_The taunts flew at her from all directions. She didn't know where to turn, which twist of the road was harmless or fatal, so she curled in a ball by the side of the pavement and lay there until the voices stopped. _

_The children all hated her. They poked and prodded at her arms and thighs. "She can't even eat right!" They laughed at her and it hurt. The one place she thought was safe, the one place she had that she could trust people, was destroyed with a single slip of the tongue._

_She was positive the guidance counselor didn't even feel a twinge of remorse, they way she looked at her with that mocking twinkle of pity in her eyes when she entered the nurse's office for the fourth time that day. She said she didn't feel well. She said she wanted to go home, but they didn't understand what she meant and they sent her back to that hell of a house where everything was the same, except worse. She didn't want to go there, she wanted to go _home. _To the white house with the chipped paint and the boxes and the smell of warm cinnamon wafting through the rooms. The smell of love and family._

_Every day was a new nightmare. Every day they came up with new words and names to amuse themselves at her expense. "Her parents didn't even want her," the boys shouted. "I heard she was left on the side of the road," the girls giggled. She moved to the back of the classroom and stayed there for the rest of the year. She resigned herself to sitting in silence when they sought her out. She endured all they threw at her. She had no friends. She had no love._

_Slowly but surely, she felt hate becoming her new best friend. Hate told her that she didn't have to put up with this kind of treatment. Hate whispered in her ear that she could fight back, show them what she was made of, give them a taste of their own medicine. She listened with the gullibility of a 10 year old and acted on every command it gave her. She yelled. She kicked. She punched. She did everything she could to show them that _she was a person, too. _And it felt good._

_Her principal didn't like that, though, and he sent her away. He said she should never come back to this school again. Because _what kind of child abuses another?

_Good riddance, she spat. She knew what kind. An unstable kind. A sadistic, brutal, horrible kind._

_She found out later that they were referring to her. _

_The social worker came back again and told her that they would be going to a new place, a good place. Somewhere she wouldn't have to act out to justify her emotions. "I know, sweetie," she soothed, "It's tough to be a foster kid."_

_Carol put her hand on hers and started to drag her to the little, white sedan. She jerked it away and followed on her own._

_She didn't need anybody to tell her where to go._

_She had herself. And that was all she needed._

…

By the time Regina looked up, her chest was heaving. Her breathing was irregular and shallow.

"No," she whispered, "No, no. Stop. Don't do this. I can't… No..no…" She threw the paper down on the table with as much force as she could muster. Her hands flew to her hair and she started pulling out clumps.

Memories flashed inside her mind's eye. She used her arm to steady herself. The colors of her mother's hair and her people's drab clothing blurred. She felt her body wavering, falling, _falling. _Their taunting faces screamed at her.

"No…no. Stop this…."

Her breathing picked up speed and in a second she was curled inward, trying to stop the pain. Tears filled her eyes and it was all she could do to blink them away. An old and evil voice whispered in her head, _This isn't how a queen should act. _

"No…no…" she cried. "No…MAKE IT STOP!" she screamed. Her voice tore through the silence like a knife.

The door flew open and Archie rushed in. She couldn't see him and she couldn't hear him, but she knew it must be him, because who else could it be?

A hand was felt on her side, on her pulse, on her rapidly rising and falling chest.

The next thing she knew, it all went black.

*_**Author's note: Hi there! Thank you for your continued support and wonderful reviews. You guys are really sweet! :) In this chapter, Regina experiences an anxiety attack. Not even I can say for sure what exactly caused it, but it was most likely triggered by the abuse Emma experienced and it's similarity to aspects of Regina's past. I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. Please review! **_


	4. Chapter 4

Waking up in the hospital was embarrassing. Ripping off her oxygen mask and finding that she couldn't stand up without wobbling was even more so. Seeking out Dr. Whale was probably the most excruciating ordeal she ever went through.

He seemed surprised to see her up so quickly. After shooing a nurse away, he turned to Regina and asked her what she was doing up and about.

She completely ignored his question and growled in a dangerously low voice, "What am I doing in here?"

He chuckled a little before looking at the severe face in front of him and deciding that his reaction was probably not the best. Dr. Whale cleared his throat, "Well…Regina, you had a panic attack."

"I had a _what?"_

"You experienced a severe fit of anxiety and your windpipe closed off for about a minute and a half." He shook his head, perplexed. "I'm sorry. I thought you knew."

Regina took a step back. _Oh. _"Yes, well, thank you, Doctor. I'm glad we got that cleared up. Am I free to go?"

"Yes, all you need to do is fill out an insurance form," he gestured to the counter across the sterile hall, "and you'll be on your way."

The doctor smiled and turned to leave, but something caught Regina's mind. She called out before he could get away.

"Wait. Um…do you know who brought me in?"

He furrowed his brow. "No, I'm afraid I don't. I only saw you on a gurney being pushed by nurses. I guess the person who brought you didn't have time to stick around."

With that said, he turned to leave, smirking at the perturbed expression on Regina's face as he walked away. There weren't many chances to see the Mayor caught off guard, and, well, you had to take what you could get.

…

_Clang, clang, clang _went the metal bowl as Regina furiously attacked it with her whisk. She poured the light red spice into the bowl with indignation, stabbing the container in the air like she was part of some horror film. She could almost hear the violins from _Psycho _piercing through the warm kitchen air.

Regina set the container on the counter next to her and stared at it. _Chili Powder. _

"GOD DAMMIT." She pushed the mixing bowl into the sink with a clash and threw her arm out to swipe the spice onto the floor. _Chili Powder. Chili Powder! All I wanted was some damn paprika and I get fucking CHILI POWDER. Can't anything go right today? _Her fist slammed on the counter as the door pushed open.

"Mom?" an inquisitive and slightly frightened voice could be heard calling from the foyer.

Regina took a couple deep breaths the way Archie taught her to and cleared her mind. She faked a smile and went to greet her son. At once, Henry dropped his bag.

"What's that all over your shirt?"

Regina looked down. A reddish-bronze coating was painted all over her favorite apron. She growled low in her throat.

"Mom?" Henry started. "Are…are you okay?"

_In…out…in…out. _"Yes, honey, I'm fine. I just, evidently, need to change!" She willed her footsteps to be as normal as possible as she stomped (quietly) up to her room.

Into the slacks and shirt she slipped, and made her way down the stairs again, this time calmer than before.

Henry was sitting at the island with his bag atop the wood. He gave his best lopsided smile as he said, "So, I guess we're eating at Granny's?"

It couldn't be helped. Her face melted into a smile as she took in her innocent son. No matter how bad things got, she would always have one good thing in her life. One shining example of innocence and bliss. Her son. _Hers._ She walked closer and ruffled his hair.

"Yes. I suppose so."

…

They slid into the booth simultaneously and sat opposite each other. Regina could already feel her mood rising.

Ruby sauntered up and jutted out a hip. "What can I get you?"

"Uh…I think I'll have a chicken salad sandwich with…French fries as a side?" He looked to his mother for conformation. She nodded and he broke out in a grin.

"Uh-huh," she wrote it down on her notepad, biting her lip. "And you, Madame Mayor?"

"I'll have the salmon house salad please." She handed the waitress her menu and even attempted a polite smile.

"And to drink?"

The words were forming on Henry's lips, a hopeful expression on his face. "Water. Just water, please. For both of us." She silenced the disappointed look on her son's face with a knowing glance.

As Ruby disappeared, Regina leaned in to whisper playfully, "You already got French fries."

Henry started to laugh, and to her surprise, so did Regina. The noise so unfamiliar to her ears, it made her wonder why she didn't do it more.

_Ring-a-ling-clang_

The door opened to reveal a leather-clad blonde and a pixie-haired brunette. Well, there went her good mood. That was short-lived.

Henry caught her looking and followed her gaze to the door. "Oh! Hey, there's Emma! Maybe she can sit with us!"

"No, I don't really think that's the best-" but before she could get the words out, Henry called to his birth mother.

Regina groaned inwardly as she watched the lengthy blonde glide up to their booth.

"Hey, kid. How's it going?" She patted him on the back.

He smiled up at her. "Pretty good. My mom let me get French fries."

Emma's eyes shot up. "Oh, Regina. How are you feeling?"

Damn. Word got out that fast. She could not let this continue. "I'm fine, Sheriff. It was just a minor hiccup. Your Mayor is still able to govern." Did she just say _your _Mayor?

Emma chuckled. "It didn't look so minor to me."

Her body stiffened at the simple words. She felt heat crawling through her arms and up her neck. How did she know what it looked like? Did the sheriff see her in the hospital? _Did she-? _No. She couldn't have. It was Archie. Most definitely Archie. Archie was the only one who could have-

"Um…Regina? Hello…?" Emma waved her hand in front of the stunned woman's face.

She shook herself. "Sorry, what was that?"

"I asked if you wanted to talk outside."

She looked to Henry. "I can talk with Mary Margaret. I need to know when the science fair is so I can have my project ready. It's Mount Vesuvius." He shot them a smile and slid out of his seat to talk with his school teacher.

Regina sighed and lifted herself out of the booth. The bell jingled as the door slammed shut.

"Now what is it you wanted to talk with me about, Miss Swan."

The blonde shifted her feet into a challenging stance: feet shoulder-width apart and arms crossed. She moved her jaw. "Now he's definitely not safe with you, Regina. Not after that."

"After what, dear?"

"Cut the crap, Regina. You know what."

She toyed with the cuffs on her coat sleeves before glaring at the blonde with her jaw set. "I can assure you, it was a one-time occurrence and it won't happen again. Henry is perfectly fine."

"You know, I'm not so sure."

Regina put on her most vile grin and moved closer to her son's birth mother. "Well, lucky for you, Miss Swan, your certainty doesn't matter. Because he's _my _son. And he _is safe."_

Regina pivoted away from the woman and started up the pathway to the diner. Halfway to the door, Emma spoke.

"What was it about anyway?"

Regina turned to face her. "That, Miss Swan, is none of your business."

She left the figure of the Sheriff standing in the cold Maine breeze.

…

What is with her? What is _wrong _with her? She should hate the blonde with every ounce of her being, but instead she finds herself pacing around her living room and fidgeting with her hair and shirt and anything around that she could touch. _Why _was the need to read every second of Emma's _trivial _experience so _consuming? _She just fought with the damn woman last night! She shouldn't even _care _about her _existence, _let alone her _life._

Regina looked to the clock. It said 4:42. She'd have to leave soon if she wanted to be early enough to read more. She pushed the thought out of her head. No. _Evil, evil thought. Remember what happened last time?!_

She didn't even notice Henry enter the room.

"Mom?"

Regina jumped and stopped pacing. She caught her breath and tried to assume a normal appearance.

"Yes, dear? What is it?"

He took an involuntary step back as she stepped forward. "You're…you're acting kind of weird. Are you sure you're feeling okay?"

She put a hand on his arm and squeezed. "Of course I am. I just have to get to my session soon."

He knotted his eyebrows as she walked toward the foyer. "Maybe you should stop seeing him. You've been acting kind of strange ever since you started…"

She spun around to face him and slowly lowered herself to his eye level. "Henry, I can't." She put as much emotion into her words as she could to make the boy understand. "It's what's best for me. You saw Dr. Hopper. You know how good he is. He can make me good, too."

The boy looked at her for a moment before nodding his consent. "Okay."

She squeezed his arm and turned to leave. At the door, Henry called out, "Just…just make sure you're safe."

Her heart warmed upon hearing those words and she let the feeling carry her all the way to the office.

Henry turned to trudge back to his room. No matter what anyone said, he really did love his mom. Ever since she told him she wanted to change, ever since she told him that she wanted to be good, it was like he had a whole new relationship with his mother. A second chance. And he was not going to lose that.  
…

Regina tip-toed up the steps and slipped into the office, closing the door behind her.

She slumped onto the leather couch and stared at the gleaming white paper sitting innocently before her. This was the moment. This was her decision.

She picked up the paper and placed it on her lap.

…

_The principle walked in on the giggling middle-schoolers. She sighed as they whispered to each other and pretended to look remorseful. Such a juvenile age. Who would even spray paint a tree on the gym wall? It was written plain on her face that she wished she had a different job. Holding out the phone, she addressed the blonde, "Your foster mother wants to talk with you." _

_The giggles disappeared. The world went black. She was paralyzed with fear. The disbelieving gazes of her friends bore into her from either side. She wanted to crawl in a hole and die. How could she let this happen _again?

"_I thought you said she was your real mom," the grubby kid on her right mused. _

"_You told us you were normal," the prissy brunette on her left spat._

"_How could you lie to us?" the crowd shouted, over and over and over again. On repeat in her head, she played it 24/7. The scene that ruined her life. It was all she could think about. It was all she _had _to think about. Unless she wanted to spend her time ruminating on her loneliness, her stupidity. _

"_How could you lie to us?"_

How could she let this happen again?

_Her 'friends' left her. Her 'enemies' teased her. Word got out, and soon everybody knew the weird girl. She was alone. She would always be alone. _

"…_lie to us?"_

_Her foster parents didn't keep her for long after that. They didn't want a delinquent in their house. They didn't want their reputation scarred by some uncivilized child._

"…_lie…"_

_For that, she was thankful. She got into the car willingly when Carol pulled up again with a frown etched on her face. _

"…_lie…"_

_She was off to a new house, a 'better' house. But she knew better than to trust those words. It would never be better. Never._

"…_lie…lie…LIE." _

…

Regina gently placed the paper on the coffee table in front of her. She checked her pulse. Normal. She breathed in slowly through her mouth. Clear. She checked her emotions. Nothing. Remorse…sadness for the girl, maybe, but other than that, nothing.

She was fine.

*_**Author's note: I'm really sorry for the late update. I'm going to be away for a few days and we won't have access to the internet, so the next update is going to be late, too. I'm so sorry, but I promise that when I get back I will post a chapter everyday for the rest of the week. I hope you liked this chapter. Please review :) **_


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